Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Gimme That Bagel
I thought Callie was going to fight me for the bagel I made this morning. Geez! For the day when I do the long ride into the Desert Sanatorium, me needs to be out the door by 5:30 a.m. I really need that time frame just in case there’s wind, or I have a flat—or really I can’t get myself up and going—which happens quite often.
I woke up 15 minutes before the alarm, and I felt rested—so I got up and got going. Pretty much I can be out the door in a matter of minutes. My goodness but 15 extra minutes! Callie usually stays in bed, but she sensed I was up to something and just would not leave me alone unless she got part of the bagel I just toasted. Okay I gave her a little, but she wanted more—and I was tripping over her as she tried to squeeze out the door into the garage. If she got out, she’d do a neighborhood patrol and I’d have to chase her back home—and I’d be late getting started—as always.
Well, I did the throw a piece of bagel down the hall trick—and I quick jumped on the bike. Then I realized I’d left my back-pack in the kitchen when I was trying to fight her off with the bagel thing—so I had to charge back into the house to fetch it. Sorry Callie, but no more bagel… I ate it—git outta the way, Dog!
As the garage door slips down behind me, I pause, and notice the sweet cool smell of the desert. O! so beautiful and suddenly fragrant, mes amis—the kind of sweet bliss that comes right before ahh—right before—let me see, oh yeah, that comes right before—RAIN. Yes it has begun to rain, Gentle Readers of This Blog.
I roll—I can handle this. I ride past Maj. Edquid’s house. He’s got some early appointment in Phoenix I suppose. He gives me a hardy salute—he’s a helicopter pilot and was deployed in Afghanistan with the same Battalion as Little Egypt… So as I make my way, the rain becomes harder—and it’s a crosswind. There seems to be no traffic at all, and everything is wet and glassy. The lights of Tucson, 25 miles away, are reflecting up above on the rain clouds, making them glow blue-green.
You’ve no doubt been in a Spring rain shower, there’s a bit more bark than bite. The wind was picking up as well as the rain, but now as I turned East on River Rd, I got the full-force of the wind, such that it was one of those tailwinds we all dream about—so I was zipping down the road very very fast. I decided to stay on River Rd and not cut onto the Bike Path so I could stay with this awesome tailwind as long as possible. The rain was now just a sprinkle, traffic was light, and that blazing morning Sun that blinds everyone on their morning commute, was behind the low clouds.
When I did turn onto the Bike Path for a short two miles before I cut down to the main artery which would take me to the San, I realized that the Raleigh and I were covered with a thin layer of grey grime. Now I was starting to feel wet and also a bit cold.
At the bike locker, I saw that it was only 7 o’clock. Riding with the wind, I had taken 30 minutes off what is usually almost a two-hour commute…
More rain in the afternoon, right when I leave to ride home.
The rain stopped when I got to work, and the clouds went away—and the day was clear, sunny, and beautiful. Later in the afternoon as I packed up, I took a quick look outside—whoa but it was now grey and dark. Rain began to pour at the Desert San, Gentler Readers of This Blog. I quick did a text to Heather (you remember her, mes amis?) to see if I could possibly ride to her office, about eight miles away, for a lift. She responded with, “Dork—last time—I mean it”
On the bike path, out of the traffic for the trip in the rain storm.
So I made my way to Heather’s work. Most of the ride back in the land yacht was uneventful—just tail-gating, speeding, and her swearing obscenities at others stuck in the muck of the drive home—such that I was grateful for the transport.
At the turn-off to go up to Heather's office.
At home I took the garden hose, and sprayed off all the sand and dirt from the Raleigh. I also blasted off my bike shoes as they were filthy and cover with dirt as well.
Covered with sand and dirt from the Bike Path.
Just as we're a mile from home, the rain is over.